In Camp
UNDER green mango boughs
They pitch my little house;
Earth is the floor at my feet,
My walls are a canvas fold
To screen me from the heat
And to keep me from the cold.
Free from taxes and rents,
I am a dweller in tents,
Under the open sky
My simple stables lie—
Leaves and the sky are the roof
Whereunder my ponies chew,
Fidget, and paw the hoof
All the warm day through,
They have thick wadded coats for night,
Looking like armadilloes!
How they sleep till the morning light
With straw for their beds and pillows.
At the edge of my kingdom scurry
Creatures in feathers and furs—
Crows in a furtive hurry—
Hungry and cringing curs—
I have birds as petitioners,
Squirrels for pensioners,
Monkeys are bold marauders
Making raids on my borders !
Nature is so much nearer
Than ever she seemed before.
Nature is so much dearer
Than when one looks through a door.
Sunshine and air are given
Straight and direct from heaven.
And the days come fresh and new,
With no walls to filter through,
Brother to gipsy and tramp,
I am a dweller in camp.
Camp, Kheri, Oudh.